


Rumour Has It

by karcathy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, M/M, Twincest, anyway yeah they have hot shower sex and stuff, tagged as dave/dirk bc they're twins so no age difference, u feel, what i'm saying is it's all very hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karcathy/pseuds/karcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and Dirk, the notoriously scandalous Strider twins, are rumoured to be engaging in less-than-brotherly acts. Naturally, their first response is to make these rumours come true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rumour Has It

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much pwp, with heavy use of fanfic logic. Still, it's pretty damn hot.

You hear a lot of rumours about you and Dave, the scandalous Strider twins – no parents, no boundaries, no morals. Some are true, some are nearly true, and most are blatantly untrue. There are a couple you wish were true, not that you’d admit it – especially to Dave.

 

Dave hears most of the rumours through his friend, John, who looks way too similar to your ex-boyfriend for your comfort. You tend not to hear any before he does, seeing as you mostly keep to yourself. The latest fantastical story, however, you do hear first – from your friend Roxy. You’re waiting for Dave after school, glancing frequently at your watch and sighing occasionally, as he’s running late, when Roxy skips up to you and asks whether you’ve heard the rumour about you and Dave.

“Which one?” you ask, staring distractedly over her shoulder.

“The one saying that you two engage in some not-so-brotherly activities,” she replies, with an impish grin.

Your stomach sinks and your eyes snap back to her face as you ask what sort of activities, although you think you can guess.

“You know,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows, “ _Sexual_ activities.”

“Great,” you say, rolling your eyes, “Just what I needed.”

“Everyone knows all the rumours about you two are rubbish, anyway,” she says, patting your arm sympathetically.

“Yeah,” you say, glancing over her shoulder again and spotting Dave, “Anyway, catch you later.”

“See ya!”

She gives you a goofy grin as you walk over to Dave, giving her a half-hearted wave.

“Sup,” Dave says, giving you a cursory fist-bump.

“Heard the latest rumour?” you ask, shifting your bag higher up your shoulder and setting off for the bus stop.

“The one about the dog and your old underwear?”

“That was your underwear. No, the one about us being... y’know,”you say, shrugging meaningfully.

“Oh, yeah, John told me. What about it?”

You hesitate for a moment, then say “Nothing,” and continue to walk in silence.

 

The bus ride home is long and awkward. You sit in silence, thinking over what Roxy told you, and trying not to look at Dave. You think he might be watching you out of the corner of his eye, but you can’t bring yourself to check. In the end, you just settle for hoping he doesn’t think you’re acting weirdly. For that matter, you wonder _why_ you’re acting weirdly. So there’s another stupid rumour about you and your brother – so what? _So maybe you wish this one was true_ , a small voice in the back of your mind whispers, and you try your best to ignore it. You’ve never been more glad to know that no one can read your mind.

 

“So,” Dave says, cracking open a can of soda and tossing another over to you, then nudging the fridge door shut with his ass, “What’s up?”

You raise one eyebrow at him as he joins you on the couch, as if to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about.

“Come on, dude,” he says, rolling his eyes, “You’ve been acting weird all afternoon.”

So he did notice, then.

“It’s nothing,” you say, half-shrugging and sipping your soda, then pull a face at the flavour.

You check the can, see it’s store-brand cola, and give Dave a why-the-fuck-did-you-buy-this-shit look.

“Is it about that rumour?” he asks.

You just stare silently at your can.

“You know everyone knows those rumours are bullshit, right?”

“It’s not that,” you say, quietly.

“What is it, then?” he asks, sounding a little irritated.

You hesitate, swallowing and fiddling with your can, spinning it deftly between your hands.

“Tell me,” he says, gently but firmly.

You sigh, glancing up at him then back down at your can.

“Promise you won’t think I’m awful?” you ask, looking him in the eye.

He pauses for a moment before nodding, and you look back down at your can before you answer.

“Okay... so... what if I wish it were true?”

The silence stretches on longer than is comfortable, and you look back up at him, anxious you might have gone too far.

“Oh,” he says eventually, letting out a long breath, and you realise you were holding your breath, too.

This time, it’s him that looks away, whilst you keep staring at the side of his face, waiting for him to continue.

“Well...” he says, looking back at you, “What if I did, too?”

You aren’t sure who moves first, but the next thing you know, your arms are around his neck and cheap soda is spilling across your legs and you’re kissing him and he’s kissing you back and you don’t think this could have gone any better. It’s a long moment, or a small eternity, before you break apart.

“You’re covered in cola,” he says, resting his forehead against yours, and you laugh.

“Yeah,” you say, pulling away and picking up the can, then peering inside it.

It’s mostly empty, so you tip the last dregs over his head.

“Ew, not cool,” he says, shaking his hair and spattering your shades with droplets of sticky cola.

“This stuff is unnecessarily sticky,” you say, attempting to wipe it off of your shades and leaving them sticky and smeared.

“I don’t think it’s meant to be used on your hair,” Dave says, wiping his hand on your shirt.

“It doesn’t taste like you’re meant to drink it, either,” you retaliate, messing up his hair with one hand.

“I think we need to shower,” he says, glancing down at your soaked pants, and you nod.

“You wanna go first or...?” you ask, leaving the sentence.

He gives you a devilish grin, then grabs your hand and all but drags you to the bathroom, both of you discarding your shades on the way. He starts to fiddle with the water whilst you begin pulling off your uncomfortably sticky pants, wishing they were a little less tight and a lot less cola-soaked. He manages to get naked and in the shower, rubbing copious amounts of shampoo into his hair, before you finally divest yourself of your pants. You quickly pull off the rest of your clothes and climb into the shower, squeezing yourself in next to Dave and rubbing soap across your sticky thighs.

 

It doesn’t take you long to realise that this shower isn’t really big enough for both of you to wash at once, so you just sort of end up washing each other. You start giggling halfway through when you realise how intimate and couple-y this is.

“What?” Dave asks, pausing in the middle of rinsing your hair.

“This,” you say, pointing at his hands, “It’s just so... you know?”

“Yeah,” he says, laughing, “I guess so. Now turn around so I can do your back.”

You twist around, bracing yourself against the shower wall, and he runs his hand along your back, then leans in close and kisses your neck.

“Is this ‘you know’ enough for you?” he asks, his mouth right next to your ear and his voice low and husky.

“Not quite,” you reply, twisting back around so you’re facing him, then kissing him in the hollow under his ear.

“Mmm,” he says, as you kiss your way down to his collarbone, then “Aaah,” as you bite down on his shoulder, then gently kiss the red mark you leave.

He responds by moving to suck on your neck, and you just know you’re going to end up with a hickey, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Shifting so the water is pouring over your head, you slip your hands around Dave’s waist, then slip them down to cup his ass. He makes a growling noise, which almost has you giggling again, and bites your shoulder. Tutting, you push his head away, ducking downwards and barely managing to kneel in the cramped space. He sighs as you kiss his stomach, pushing him backwards so you have more space, and water cascades over your head and across your shoulders. Tantalisingly slowly, you kiss your way downwards, then pause just above his erection, glancing up at him and getting water in your eyes, then stopping to swear and rub them dry.

“Smooth,” Dave says, laughing, and you flip him off, then give the head of his dick a cursory kiss before standing up again and kissing him on the lips.

He shoves you away and pulls a face, then pulls you back against him and shoves his tongue in your mouth, pushing you up against the wall and kissing you roughly, knocking a shampoo bottle over. You bring your hands, which had gone flying outwards in an attempt at stabilising your flight, in to rest on his waist, then dig your nails into his side as he bites down on your lip just hard enough to draw blood. The sharp, tangy taste surprises you both, and he pulls away.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding slightly breathless.

“It’s okay,” you reply, sucking briefly on your lip, then pull him back in for another kiss.

As he leans down to suck on your neck again, you think about how you like him like this – rough and eager and only just in control. You also think you wouldn’t mind leaving him covered in bruises, either. He moves onto your shoulder, alternating between biting and kissing, and you moan, jerking your hips against him and hissing when your dicks rub past each other. He groans into your shoulder, the sound slightly muffled, as you bring your hand down and just about manage to wrap it around both of you. Bracing himself against the wall, he starts to thrust inelegantly against your hand.

“Faster,” you hiss, closing your eyes and shifting your hand, and he speeds up.

It only takes a little longer to push you both over the edge, within a few seconds of each other. You both stand still for a moment, him leaning against the wall and you sliding down it a little, and both of you panting, before you move back into the water and help each other clean up.

“Ow,” he says, inhaling through his teeth with a sharp hissing noise and looking at the bruises which are starting to form on your shoulders.

“Doesn’t hurt too bad,” you say, shrugging, “Besides, you’ve got some of your own.”

You nod at the bite mark on his shoulder, and run your fingers along the scratches you left on his ribs.

“I think you’re gonna have to start wearing scarves,” he jokes, gently circling one of the hickeys on your neck, “Don’t think you want to have to explain how you got these.”

“Yeah,” you say, “Maybe I’ll borrow one of Roxy’s.”

“Maybe I’ll just keep you all for myself.”

“Maybe I’ll let you.”

He laughs as you turn off the water and step out of the shower, grabbing a towel and chucking one at his head.

“Hey, you wanna get pizza?” you ask, rubbing your hair into an approximation of dry then wrapping the towel around your waist.

“Pepperoni, extra cheese,” he says, shaking his head and spattering you with water droplets, “Get the stuffed crust one.”

“You got cash?”

“Ten bucks in my wallet.”

“Cool.”

You head for the phone, thinking it’s a little surreal how normal this all feels. Then again, it’s the most natural thing in the world. 


End file.
